Giving In

It's indescribable.

The way how I know for certain that this is the way God meant for a relationship to look. To work. To breathe. To function as an organism. The way He wants me to be cared for. I will never settle for less than this because this is what I know God wants for me. What I don't deserve, but He says I do anyway. I can feel it everyday. In the way he wants to provide for me. In the way he listens to my pointless stories, and actually says he cares about them. And I can tell that he does. In the way he never complains when I talk too much, when I know I'm talking too much.

It's not perfect, but I know this is right. We fight, yes. We argue. We're stubborn, and we miscommunicate. But then we reconcile. We talk through issues and speak our needs. Knowing that we need to hash them out before they take root in our selves and our relationship.

I'm probably the most stubborn of the two of us. I so love to hold on to the hurt and pain I've experienced in the past. To grasp hold of the anger and bitterness and harbor it in my body to fester, silently letting it eat me up until I'm mute and emotionless. But he doesn't let me. He comes after me, never forcing, but always willing. Pursuing me in a way that I can't resist. Gently and silently persuading me to give up my urge to deal with things myself (when I know I never will), the way Jesus pursues me daily to give up my sins and my issues.

It's hard. It's hard to be honest and it hurts. To have to tell someone what is wrong and what is hurting you. To let them know that they've done something to cause this pain. The initial yelling and the silent treatment are easy. They're just buffers I know I put up to avoid dealing with the real issues. I expect him to give up and let me be mad until my silence passes and then the issues blow over. But that never happens. He waits, yes, but then he wants to talk. He comes to me when I'm not ready to unmask the wound, but he waits anyway. And after my initial blunderings and excuses, I eventually give up my burden. And he accepts it. And he truly listens. Will things change immediately? Probably not. I can't see anytime soon that he'll stop falling asleep every moment he can. BUT he listens, and I know he cares and desires to change. And as we hash out problems, I realize that I need to change too. And this means everything.

Is he perfect? Not a chance. But am I? Not even close. But there is one who is perfect, and He's the one who holds us together. He makes up for the imperfections in the both of us, and no matter what road our relationship takes us on, He will be the one guiding us. He'll be the one gently persuading the both of us to give in more to each other and to Him.